


Light Up Again

by robocryptid



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Flashbacks, M/M, Scion Hanzo Shimada, yes I'm back on this bullshit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 15:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30125055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robocryptid/pseuds/robocryptid
Summary: Everything he tells Hanzo is true; it’s what he doesn’t tell him that’s liable to get him killed.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 11
Kudos: 104





	Light Up Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [youraveragejoke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youraveragejoke/gifts).



> This fic's working title was "whyyyyjokewhyyyy," which I think says all you need to know about how much of its existence is YourAverageJoke's fault. They've even drawn for it, although [this handsome McCree](https://twitter.com/YourAverageJoke/status/1244871166067646465?s=20) from the opening scene is the only thing currently publicly available.
> 
> There might be other redeeming qualities, but this fic is primarily a) sad and b) horny.

Art by [YourAverageJoke](https://twitter.com/youraveragejoke)

The evening’s a cool one. Humid, too. It’s Jesse’s least favorite combination. The wall behind him is slimy with the moisture, and his shoulders have begun to ache. Waiting’s always been the worst part of the job. 

There’s technically no smoking allowed on the streets, but anybody who might take issue gives Jesse a wide berth, leaving him to watch the swirl of smoke rise slowly in the damp air. He counts: one minute. Then two. Then five. Then ten. If he makes it to fifteen, he’s supposed to go in.

He should be in there already. He’s ostensibly the bodyguard. Right hand man. Whatever. Making him wait on the curb feels like an insult, or a test. There are other guards, though. Maybe the test isn’t for Jesse at all. 

At twelve and some change, the boss emerges from the nightclub, tugging his sleeves down over his wrists. He doesn’t have many tells, but this is one of them. He had to get his hands dirty. Jesse frowns; it shouldn’t have gotten ugly without him there to help.

One of the guards flanking him can barely hide his disdain for Jesse, but the other is friendly enough. That one gives a sharp jerk of his chin that says, _Come on. We’re done here._

The guards slink back as Jesse falls into step. “Get what you came for?” he asks quietly. He doesn’t get an answer. 

At the car, Jesse grinds out the cigar. The guards take the front seat, and Jesse holds the door open, sliding in last in the back. With the dark, sound-proof partition between them and the men up front, it almost feels private. 

“Was it that bad, or that good?” 

That gets him a smirk. “It went well. We reached an understanding.”

“Congrats then, boss. You think we can celebrate with dinner? I’m starvin’.”

One gloved hand reaches across the seat, hooks under Jesse’s chin, and tips his head so they’re looking at one another. “Call for takeout. Your choice. But I wish to celebrate at home.” He punctuates it with a thumb stroking just beneath Jesse’s lip, dark eyes tracking the movement. 

“Yessir,” Jesse grins. Then he closes the gap between them, steals a kiss that’s nearly close-mouthed but hardly chaste. Instead it’s full of suggestion, other ways they might celebrate. When he pulls back, Hanzo’s smiling like the cat that got the canary.

* * *

_“This seat taken?”_

_Shimada glances up, then up again, plainly surprised by having to crane his neck. He’s even better-looking up close. Jesse can’t help the slow smile that spreads across his face. Unfortunately, the men standing guard aren’t interested in letting him do more than that. There are at least four guns aiming his way, and two of those don’t care that he knows it._

_Shimada raises a single hand, silently warning his men to stand down. One eyebrow tics up as he takes Jesse in. “How did you get in here?”_

_“I walked through that door right over there.” Jesse gestures behind him. “Don’t worry about your men. They’re just takin’ a nap.”_

_It’s a shame that the prettiest pair of eyes he’s seen in a long time have to look so angry. “What do you want?”_

_“A job.” That gets Shimada to blink, surprised. “Heard you were hirin’. Thought I’d make my services available.” Jesse doesn’t wait for further invitation to sit, but he does ask, “Mind if I smoke?”_

_Confounded by his audacity, Shimada simply gestures for him to continue lighting his cigarette. “Assuming there_ is _a job, what makes you think you are qualified?”_

_“Did I mention your men nappin’ in the other room?” Jesse laughs and blows smoke at the ceiling. “Ain’t dumb enough to pull my gun out while your guards are feelin’ trigger happy, but I’d love to show you what I can do with it.” He doesn’t think he can risk a wink in front of the man’s personal guard, so he tries to leave a hint of it in his voice. “You wanna see what I got up my sleeve, all you gotta do is ask.”_

_The look on Shimada’s face says he isn’t sure if it’s innuendo or not, which is exactly what Jesse’s after. That, and the flick of Shimada’s eyes down his body. Jesse leans back in his chair, knees subtly inching apart under his stare._

_“Why this family?”_

_“A man’s gotta eat, and this is the only work I’m cut out for.” Jesse shrugs. “Don’t see the point of startin’ anywhere but with the very best. And maybe I wanted to see the great Shimada Hanzo for myself. See how you measure up to the stories.” He lets his gaze move slowly, taking in the powerful body, the trim waist, the suit that probably costs more than Jesse’s old bike, and he smirks to let Shimada know exactly how Jesse thinks he measures up._

_Shimada does a good job of seeming unimpressed and unflappable, but Jesse has spent enough time cultivating the weight of eyes on him that he feels it anyway. The man can’t hide his interest, in any sense of the word. Still, Shimada’s not lying when he says, “You are rude, presumptuous, and cocky—”_

_“Don’t forget stubborn,” Jesse adds._

_“Why should I hire a man who doesn’t know his place?”_

_“Maybe I’m rusty at takin’ orders, but give me a chance. My work will speak for me.” He lets a crack show here, a sign of nerves to prove he’s not all bluster and bravado; he’s also a man in need of a job._

_Shimada studies him with judgmental eyes. He’s gorgeous, from the thick black hair to the neatly trimmed goatee, the wide cheekbones and the curve of his lips. Even those eyes, mean as they are, look striking, deep and dark and lined with the thickest, blackest lashes. There’s danger there, and more of it coiled inside his densely muscled body. He ticks every one of Jesse’s boxes, and there might be new boxes to discover with him._

_When Shimada is satisfied, he pulls out what looks like a business card, and he jots something down on it before he slides it across the table. It’s a date and time to go with the address on the card. “So, did I get the job?” Jesse asks._

_“No. An audition.”_

* * *

_It’s a warehouse. Jesse would bet money it’s not one the Shimadas typically use. They wouldn’t give that information away so freely._

_Jesse lingers outside, taking his time with a cigar while he watches his competition arrive. There’s a blonde woman with a scar over one eye and a tattoo down her neck. A slight, dark-skinned man who looks like he should be working in a museum somewhere, not offering his services as a gun for hire. Several young Japanese men, some rougher looking than the others. Including Jesse, there are a dozen people here._

_He waits until he sees Shimada himself roll up with a virtual army before he bothers to make his way inside. Shimada’s people are guards, unsurprisingly, but also several elderly folks who likely aren’t here to fight. One of Shimada’s men is sporting one hell of a black eye, and he glares when he sees Jesse enter. The only appropriate response to that is a wink and a grin._

_If Jesse was hoping it’d be easy, he was dead wrong. Test one is physical combat against his competitors. Jesse’s not bad, but he carries a gun for a reason. He doesn’t like letting his enemies get this close. He’s still capable of shutting down most of them. The museum curator gives him the most trouble, but Shimada ends it before either of them can win. He’s seen enough._

_Six people are dismissed. Jesse stays._

_Round two is for guns. Jesse would prefer his own, but he can’t be mad at their caution. The only weapon any of the competitors get to wield is what the Shimadas hand them then confiscate again when it’s over. Jesse spins the pistol to test its weight, then he steadily empties the clip. When he’s finished, there’s a smoking hole in the practice target’s head, wide where several bullets passed through nearly the same spot._

_Two more people leave._

_Jesse didn’t expect this part, but he thinks he should have. They each get five minutes on the mat against Shimada himself. He steps forward, and he carefully removes his shirt, with quick, precise twists of his fingers. Once he has shrugged out of it, Jesse’s blood boils. He’s got the tattoo, intricate and beautiful, climbing up his muscled arm and over a thick shoulder, ending just over his heart — over the thick pectoral Jesse wants to sink his teeth into._

_Shimada fights like a predator, graceful and quick and deadly, without a single movement he doesn’t need. Jesse loses this fight, but he doesn’t mind it at all. Everyone else loses too. It’s funny to think Shimada needs new help at all, but Jesse understands why._

_Strangely, the one Shimada sends packing this time is the mild-mannered man who gave Jesse the most trouble. That leaves three of them for the next test. This round is player’s choice, and Jesse draws the shortest straw. He watches as a chubby Japanese man sinks several knives into his targets. The blades seem to appear from nowhere, and his aim is damn good. The blonde woman shows off her proficiency with a variety of weapons; she’s deadly with them all, but not the best at any. Jack of all trades and all that._

_When it’s Jesse’s turn, they let him have his own gun back. They set up six targets at his request. He knows it looks boring after the flashy shows the other two gave. He’s not worried. He smirks at Shimada, then he forces himself to focus. The pressure builds behind his eye and he can taste the desert dust in his mouth. He draws from the hip, releases all six bullets simultaneously — or close enough to it no one can tell the difference — then he gives the gun a twirl and holsters it. He doesn’t have to look to know all six hit the center of their targets._

_Shimada’s eyes feel like they’re boring into his skull. “Again,” he commands, and Jesse grins._

_The final step is the formal interview. Jesse smokes and chats up some of the guards while he waits his turn. Cracks a few jokes in his clumsy Japanese. The one with the black eye begrudgingly laughs._

_When it’s his turn, they take his gun again and usher him into a room alone with the boss. The door shuts and Jesse sits, uninvited once more._

_“How did you do that?”_

_Jesse shrugs. “I aimed and pulled the trigger.”_

_Shimada looks unimpressed again. “Why should I hire a man who cannot answer my questions?”_

_“It’s the truth. It’s an old trick. Always been able to do it. I can’t tell you how, only that I_ can. _If I could explain it better, I would.”_

_It’s as honest as he knows how to be, and Shimada seems to accept it. He nods once. “What brings you to Japan?”_

_Jesse can tell the truth again. “You,” he says with a smirk. “Wasn’t lyin’ when I said I wanted to work with the best.”_

_Shimada looks torn. Suspicious of his flattery, and at the same time, trying not to preen. “Why should I hire you?”_

_“Let’s be honest. You saw me out there. You know I’m good.”_

_“And if I am looking for the best?”_

_“Show me who else can shoot like I do.”_

_“You called it a trick.”_

_Jesse laughs at that. “Sure. Put the targets farther out. Make ’em move. They can do somersaults for all I care. You’ll get the same result every time.”_

_“What other skills can you offer?”_

_“Don’t mind gettin’ my hands dirty. Might like it, even. Good at readin’ people. A lot smarter than I look. And if you ever need anything stolen, I’m your man.” He grins, and he lets it seem self-conscious. “Though maybe I shouldn’t admit that, if you’re askin’ me into your home.”_

_That gets a reluctant chuckle. “I have had worse criminals under my roof. The other two candidates implied you were overconfident, hotheaded and… less than bright. This does not bother you?”_

_“Let them underestimate me. Means they won’t see me comin’, even in plain sight. Means your enemies won’t either.”_

_Shimada’s lips twitch. It’s not a smile, but he’s pleased by the answer. “Why you and_ not _the others?”_

_Ah. Here’s the one he’s been waiting for. “This room soundproofed?” Shimada’s eyes narrow. “I mean my answer’s only for you.”_

_He hesitates, but in the end, Shimada says, “Only I will hear.”_

_Jesse glances around. No cameras. He can’t feel any bugs under the table. He doesn’t care that Shimada can see him checking. “Weird that a guy like you is lookin’ for an outside hire, ain’t it? So I asked myself why, and I did some diggin’, and I gotta say, I doubt either of those jokers found what I found.” Shimada stiffens. “You been havin’ family trouble. You even know how many conspirators are in your ranks?” At Shimada’s carefully blank face, Jesse waves it off. “Don’t have to answer that. Point is, you need somebody in your corner, and I do my research. See, the big guy out there? He’ll stay loyal until one of your enemies finds a way to threaten him personally. He’s got two kids. Easy leverage. The lady’s just here for the paycheck. She’ll sell out to the highest bidder. She’s done it before, in St. Petersburg and again in Prague.”_

_“I do my research too, Jesse McCree.”_

_Jesse smiles, warmth spreading in his belly at the sound of his name in Shimada’s mouth. “And what’d you find?”_

_“Enough to make me wonder why_ anyone _should want to work with you.”_

_It stings, even if he was braced for this. He doesn’t care that Shimada sees him flinch. “You know some of my history. I’ll tell you the rest too. I’m an open book if you’re willing to pay.”_

_“You worked for Overwatch.”_

_“Blackwatch, to be precise. You know what they do?”_

_Shimada gives the barest nod. “I have heard the rumors.”_

_“Then you know what I’m good at. You saw some of it today.” Jesse lights a smoke and Shimada doesn’t stop him. “Only difference between what you do and what they do is that you’re honest about it.”_

_Shimada smirks at that, but he isn’t satisfied. “Why did you leave?”_

_“I signed on to Blackwatch instead of servin’ life in prison. Commander told me my time was up. I’ll show you the severance papers if you want, though they’re gonna lie and say it was the real Overwatch.”_

_“You got out. Why return to this life?”_

_“What else do I know how to do?” Jesse laughs, and he doesn’t care that it sounds bitter. “They put me in handcuffs for the shit I did with my gang, then they trained me up and told me to do_ worse. _Wasn’t exactly being groomed for a nice desk job. At least with you, I know what I’m gettin’ into.”_

_Dark eyes narrow thoughtfully, but Jesse can see the moment Shimada realizes he believes him. “What is stopping you from being threatened or bribed by my enemies?”_

_“Last guy I worked for got ten years outta me.”_

_“As little better than an indentured servant,” Shimada scoffs._

_“Fair, but it wasn’t all bad. It taught me not to take stability for granted. And you’re gonna pay me right. So there’s nothin’ I want that your enemies could offer me, nothin’ precious they could threaten, nothin’ that makes it worth upsetting the status quo.” Jesse shrugs, and he can see that it’s working. There’s a lot to be said for being honest. “I heard you answer loyalty with loyalty. Well, me too.” Jesse smiles, slow and easy. “You treat me right, I’ll give you anything you want.”_

_It’s subtle, but Shimada inhales sharper than he should. Jesse sits back and lets Shimada study him._

_His is the shortest interview. It’s also the only one to end with sake and a signed contract._

* * *

Hanzo doesn’t simply have a bedroom; he has a whole suite to himself. Before he got a good look, Jesse expected it to be as ultra traditional as other parts of the castle, but it’s blended. Hanzo likes tradition, but he adapts when it suits him.

It suits him to have a huge, Western style bed, a fact for which Jesse is exceedingly grateful after his own room came fitted with a futon barely long enough for him. The sofa Jesse currently occupies feels somewhat familiar, if lower to the ground than he’s totally comfortable with. 

What’s left of their takeout sits on the coffee table, collected on a small tray, which Jesse knows from experience will disappear by morning as if by magic. Hanzo’s seated down there too, head bent over some spreadsheet he keeps squinting at. “It’s late, darlin’. I feel like I should be distracting you from work by now.” Hanzo grunts and doesn’t answer. “Surely those numbers ain’t gonna change between now and tomorrow.” When it’s obvious Hanzo’s not going to stop, Jesse sighs and sits up. “Can I help, then? Unless you don’t want me lookin’.”

“If I was worried about you seeing this, I wouldn’t do it in front of you,” Hanzo says briskly. “Fine. Come look.” Jesse does as he’s told, sinking down to the floor closer to Hanzo. “What do you see?”

Jesse tries, he really does, but Hanzo’s spreadsheet is all in yen, and Jesse’s still not certain what those kinds of numbers _should_ look like — what might be suspiciously high or low is beyond him, and doubly so when the goods are all black market prices. It occurs to him there’s a lot Hanzo could hide right under his nose, thanks to the learning curve Jesse’s still working through. He tries to absorb what he can, but nothing jumps out at him as particularly meaningful. “I got nothin’, baby.” 

Hanzo wrinkles his nose at the pet name, but it doesn’t dampen the indulgent look that follows. “Good that I do not pay you for your skills at accounting, then.” 

Jesse tolerates a few more minutes of Hanzo puzzling over his tablet before he decides he’s had enough. He leans in closer, invading his space, nose brushing the shell of his ear. “You _sure_ I can’t distract you?” Hanzo doesn’t move, but he still sucks in a sharp breath. That’s all the invitation Jesse needs to scoot closer, already working open the buttons of Hanzo’s shirt. He slips a hand in as soon as he’s able, palming one of those impressive pecs.

“Incorrigible,” Hanzo mutters. He’s playing like he’s still paying attention to those spreadsheets, but his breath comes quicker, chest heaving into Jesse’s palm as the nipple tightens between his fingers. His head tilts to make room for Jesse’s mouth at his neck.

“Mmhmm. I’d offer to blow you, but I can’t fit under that table,” Jesse says before he scrapes his teeth over bare skin.

“A compelling argument for moving work to the office.”

Jesse pinches the nipple between his fingers, and Hanzo jerks into it with a breathless laugh. “A compelling argument for movin’ this to the bedroom.” Hanzo is easy to persuade after that. 

There are no spreadsheets allowed in the bedroom itself. Jesse has that much say in this arrangement, at least. The first time he caught Hanzo bringing work to bed, Jesse made enough of a fuss over wanting him to relax and take care of himself that Hanzo gave in, probably out of sheer embarrassment and an unwillingness to relive the ordeal. Whatever it takes. 

Tonight, Jesse strips them both and shoves the boss onto his back, rides him like it’s the last dick he’ll ever get, then kisses him while they’re still sore and sticky. Hanzo’s always drowsy after. It’s the best guarantee he’ll quit working for the night. When he starts to drift off, Jesse feels the deep satisfaction of a job well done. The books will make more sense after a good night’s sleep anyway.

* * *

_Shimada starts him off small. Basic stuff where he’s just one of many guards. Testing his patience, his limits, his ability to handle being anything but special. Jesse takes it in stride. He gets curious glances, and he plays up the behaviors that make folks think he’s cocky and stupid. The dumber they think he is, the lazier they’ll get around him. That includes the other guards._

_He accompanies Shimada for a few rounds of extortion from the locals. There’s a meeting at a hotel suite, another at what looks like a higher end department store. Sometimes he catches a glimpse of someone who looks scared, some restaurant owner, service worker, just a person living their life in the wrong place and time, and part of him recoils. It’s a tiny part, and one he crushes the moment he catches it. There’s no bloodshed here. Only money changing hands._

_A month and a half into Jesse’s employment, there’s another meeting, this time in the backroom of a strip club. The proprietor has a woman in his lap. A few other dancers linger in the room; when the meeting concludes, they move in, offering lap dances and private shows. Not one of them tries to touch Shimada._

_Maybe for the other guards, it’s a reward. Some time off, some nice stress relief. For Jesse, it feels like a test. When he politely rejects two pretty women, they send a man. He’s tall, almost eye level with Jesse, muscles rippling as he moves. He puts a hand on Jesse’s hip, and he leans in to murmur in his ear. “Want a dance?”_

_Shimada’s watching, measuring. Jesse meets his gaze and doesn’t look away. “Thank you, but no.”_

_Shimada’s eyes follow Jesse across the room, until they’re standing toe to toe. Shimada doesn’t say a word, but they leave together, waiting out the other guards at a small private table. Shimada never looks at the stage. None of this interests him. If it weren’t for those sly glances, Jesse might think_ nothing _interests him._

_“You did not want a break?” Shimada asks. “Or do you think yourself above such things?”_

_Jesse snorts. This, coming from the guy who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. Of all the tests Shimada’s thrown at him, this might be the least subtle. “I’m picky about the company I keep, but not because of their line of employment.”_

_“Oh?”_

_Shimada has never once reprimanded him for his flirting, and if Jesse’s gut is right, he’s outright fishing for it now. For the first time in weeks, it’s the two of them. They’re alone in a dark corner of a dark place, and Shimada’s dark eyes are studying him. Jesse leans forward, unabashed about taking all of him in. “Hard to see the stars when the sun is out.”_

_Shimada scoffs at the line, but then his lips twitch. It comes on slowly, a tiny fissure in his armor that spreads until the whole thing shatters. His laugh, when it breaks out, is quiet but genuine, his eyes lit up with delight. He is gorgeous under most circumstances, but like this, he’s suddenly human, touchable._

_The laugh ends abruptly, and Shimada reins it all in, composed once more. Serious business again, except for the gleam in his eye. “Are you always like this?”_

_“Only on days that end in Y,” Jesse says._

_The moment passes, but it is enough. They wait out the others in silence, casting furtive glances at one another. Every time their eyes meet, Jesse’s palms itch and his heart pounds. It’s hard to suppress his satisfied smile._

* * *

_He’s sitting in the chair a few feet from Shimada in a hotel suite in Tokyo. Shimada’s at the desk, ostensibly working, although for all Jesse knows, he could be looking up porn. They’re alone, because it’s low risk, but there are more guards right outside the door. He shifts his weight, trying to hide how tedious this part of the job is, and Shimada glances up from his tablet. “Bored?” he asks._

_“Thinkin’ about takin’ a hot bath, if I’m honest.”_

_“Then why don’t you?”_

_“Maybe I like the view.”_

_Shimada’s mouth pulls into this half smirk that makes Jesse’s pulse quicken. “I was unaware flattery was in your job description.”_

_“I told you on day one that my job description’s whatever you want it to be.”_

_Shimada scoffs, playful at first because he’s flustered and trying to hide it, but in the end his mouth pulls back down, far too serious. “I will consider it,” he says in a tone that suggests it’s a polite lie._

_Jesse sucks his bottom lip in, weighing the next step a lot more carefully than he wants it to appear. “Maybe I worded that wrong. You wouldn’t have to pay me for that part. Doesn’t have anything to do with the job. I like you. There’s a lotta ways to express that. Offer’s there if you want it.” Shimada stiffens, and Jesse holds his hands up in surrender. “Tell me no and I won’t bring it up again. I’ll still do my job the same.” He stands, brushing invisible lint from his trousers while his stomach ties itself in knots. “No pressure. Think I’m gonna—”_

_He cuts himself off as Shimada stands too. At first Jesse thinks he’s angry, because he’s staring at the floor, fists clenched at his sides. “Come here,” Shimada commands. It’s as much an order as he gives when they’re working, and Jesse goes hot under the collar. There are only a few feet between them. It takes no time at all to close the distance. When Shimada’s gaze lifts, his eyes are burning. “Show me what this offer entails.”_

_There are few better feelings than when a gamble pays off, and he doesn’t mind letting it show in his smile before he dips his head down. Shimada kisses with his eyes open, vigilant even now, but Jesse gets them to shut once he’s on his knees._

* * *

_Hanzo asks him only once if he knows what he’s getting into. It’s a weird question, but Jesse grins like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s easy to do. He’s still thrilled by his little victory. “You tryin’ to scare me off before we even get started?”_

_Hanzo climbs over him, palms sliding up Jesse’s bare chest. “No. I want to know that you are prepared if you plan to do this again. The guards here will suspect. And no amount of discretion can hide everything at home. The servants, at least, will know, which means others might learn it too. Whatever this is, there will be assumptions.”_

_“Those assumptions gonna make things any worse for me than bein’ your bodyguard?”_

_“That is unlikely.”_

_“Then what do I care?”_

_Hanzo smirks, leaning down over him. Jesse’s dick valiantly tries to stir again when Hanzo kisses him. When he pulls back, his hands have slid up to Jesse’s collarbone, splayed wide across it on either side. “You should also know that I do not share.”_

_“This mean I gotta warn all my exes to go into hiding?”_

_“No.” Hanzo’s face is more serious now. “I don’t care about exes. Neither they nor any present lovers would be the ones breaking my trust.”_

_“There is no present lover. Only had eyes for you since the day we met.” It’s true, which makes it easy to present with the solemnity Hanzo’s looking for. Everything he tells Hanzo is true; it’s what he doesn’t tell him that’s liable to get him killed. “Anything else?”_

_“You should know your job will be secure. I want nothing that you do not give freely. You may say no, even end this at any time without repercussions for your livelihood.” Light glints off Hanzo’s teeth the same as it would off a blade. “But I take betrayal very seriously. Should you break my trust, I cannot make the same guarantee.”_

_Not for the first time, Jesse wonders if he’s really safe in Hanzo’s presence. There is nothing unhinged about him, no signs that he’s the type to flip on a dime. Nothing to suggest that Jesse in particular_ ought _to be afraid. But he’s still a dangerous man, and sometimes the reminder jumps out. In this instance, it also makes Jesse’s dick twitch again._

_“Understood. I’ve never cheated. Ain’t about to start with you, darlin’.”_

_That seems to be enough to satisfy him. At least if the way he slips between Jesse’s thighs is anything to go by._

_He watches Jesse when they kiss, eyes intent when he scratches his fingers through the hair on Jesse’s chest, when he sinks his teeth in there. It’s like he’s waiting for some revelation, some moment when Jesse will tell Hanzo that he’s gone too far. It’s a few bruises, red lines and dents dug into flesh. Not even breaking the skin._

_If Jesse were clearer-headed, maybe it wouldn’t take him so long to figure out that the limits Hanzo’s looking for have nothing to do with what their bodies get up to. He’s waiting for a sign Jesse’s changed his mind. Searching for some hint that Jesse feels obligated, or intimidated, or anything other than turned the hell on. Fucking his employee, and he can’t even get off on the fun of that fantasy come to life — he’s too busy making sure it’s as real as he wants to believe._

_Jesse laughs when he figures it out, and he shoves one of Hanzo’s hands back between his legs, tipping forward to sink his teeth into Hanzo’s bottom lip. That earns him something nearing a growl, a reflexive curl of fingers around his cock. “C’mon darlin’, don’t make me wait all night,” he pushes, and Hanzo pushes back, bites and licks into his mouth, digs his fingers and then his cock inside Jesse’s body, marks him up and pins him down and fucks him until they’re both shaking with the exhaustion._

_When it’s over and Hanzo’s fast asleep, Jesse pads across the room to the tiny balcony, careful not to make too much noise opening the window to smoke. When Hanzo doesn’t stir, Jesse swipes over to the false app on his phone, thumbs his password and lets it scan his face, then he types a quick message:_ Looks like we’re going with my plan.


End file.
